There's this feeling inside when you can hear your brain screaming and you know you need to do something about it, but you can't, you can't seem like you're doing it because your best friend just did it. You feel pain its just at a bad time. Actually, there is no good time for pain, its all bad. There clouds in your brain and you just want clear skies up there, you don't know what to do, you think of ending it but you're not able to go through with it, you never will be. You're going to be stuck with this grey cloud over your head and in your brain for the rest of your life. You take it out on your body but that only gives you a few minutes if relief. There's nothing you can do to escape this hell.
When you're afraid to go to sleep at night because you know depression will cripple you and keep you in bed until 2 in the afternoon again. When you're afraid to go to sleep at night because you're going through cutting withdrawl, tossing and turning, thinking how good it would feel to bleed, but how bad you'll feel immediately after. Or how about when you can't sleep because you've been thinking about how you don't matter and it would be better if you just died. It's 4:30 p.m and feels like 4am. I'm so tired. I wish it was easy to "just go to bed". It's not easy. It hasn't been for a long time because of fears like these, or thoughts like these. I want to be happy again. I can't remember what it feels like. Sorry for depressing you tonight Tumblr, I'm gonna go back into the dark where I belong.
Your version of an artist is different from mine. Your art involves pens, pencils, crayon, paint and paintbrushes, and canvases. Mine involves blades, lighters, needles, pills, and my own body. You make art with a color and it turns out that way. But I make art with silver, and it turns red. Always wet, even though my utensil is not. Pouring down my canvas. Sometimes it has a deeper meaning, both of them. But if yours is too deep, all you do is cry. While if mine is too deep, I'm likely to die.
